The Plan
by a. loquita
Summary: The plan was so easily subverted.  Cabin fic, Sam/Jack


Title: The Plan  
>Pairing: SamJack  
>Category: Post-season-8-cabin-fic (That's a category, right?)<br>A/N: Happy birthday to my dear friend, mrspollifax! Special thanks to supplyship for her beta work.

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><p>It is intergalactically known that I, Jack O'Neill, do not like clichés. So one might wonder why this clichéd post-coital cuddling is not bothering me one iota.<p>

"Hey," Carter says, smiling as she lifts her head from my chest.

That's why.

I should have had a plan. Well, to be perfectly honest, I sort of did. Mostly it involved me not jumping Carter. I should clarify; I planned to not jump Carter _yet_.

Then the guys went into town to get groceries, and suddenly Carter and I had the cabin to ourselves. I walked into the guest room where she was unpacking her neatly folded sweaters and placing them inside dresser drawers. I thought that maybe we should talk and then… And then we didn't do much talking at all. Unless you count "Oh, yes, right there," and I'm pretty sure that shouldn't qualify. Anything that involves Carter losing focus is certainly not a quality conversation. It was quality something else, and that's very much my point.

"You OK?" she asks. Possibly because she can tell that I zoned out for a second.

"Sure, fine." Even to me that didn't sound convincing, and to confirm my suspicions, her face flickers with something that I'm sure isn't good. "I meant great, everything is great."

"Maybe we should…" It's only a fraction of an inch that she pulls back but I notice. She asks, "Talk?"

"Talking was my plan."

I'm having a hard time building up a lot of guilt over... this thing we just did. Because I'm sure I should be feeling guilty. In the least, I should be feeling a healthy dose of shock that this did actually happen and wasn't a dream sequence brought on by beer mixed with whatever the hell the infirmary sent home with me in a prescription bottle.

But for some odd, _very_ odd reason, I'm totally calm. Like none of that other stuff I should be feeling matters. Like this all might work out because holding back really wasn't working out for either of us. Suddenly not holding back feels damn good right about now, and I don't just mean the sex part.

After a beat she asks, "You had a plan?"

Carter looks amused. I like amused on her. Especially when there's nothing else _but_ amused on her.

Anyway, a plan, yes. "Sort of," I tell her.

"Do tell," she requests and starts her fingers walking down my chest in a way I like very much. Why was this not in the plan again?

"Well…" I grab her wrist before those fingers derail this conversation. "The plan was to talk."

"I got that already."

"Right."

Then I do something that I'm sure puts me squarely in some girly romance novel category: I kiss the inside of her wrist. I did it because I didn't want her to misinterpret they way I grabbed it a second ago, and also, hey, why not? If I already blew the plan wide open with c4, why not smash the leftover bits and pieces with a hammer.

She takes a shaky breath and licks her lips. "Sir." It comes out a bit of a question, rolled in with a healthy dose of that 'Carter is having self-confidence issues at the moment, please come back later' tone.

"Yes?"

"Maybe we should talk before…"

"Before?" I prompt her, and place another few kisses along her arm, noting it has slightly less of an effect, thus the wrist is a special spot. Good to know.

"Before we…" Her eyes slide shut. Yep, inside the wrist it is. Stealthy Jack wins again.

"Before we… what?" I say, putting her arm down across my chest, so that she might get a complete sentence out finally.

"We, um… do this again."

Part of me is running around in circles and waving banners in my head at the fact that she's basically promising there will be a next time. So that's probably a good enough reason to, you know, talk to her.

"So…" Talking, in theory, is one thing. "We're good, right?"

"That was your plan?" Her voice sounds flat. "To come in here and say that we're good."

It's becoming clearer to me now why my plan was so easily subverted.

"Well, I…" I clear my throat. "I sort of assumed there'd mostly be a lot of listening on my part."

"Sir."

I am ignoring the fact that we're lying here naked and she's calling me that. I think it might be because it's not as strange as it probably should be, or wrong, or dirty. It just is.

"Carter, look. I don't know what to say."

She sits up now and clutches the sheet to her chest. "Just…"

"What?"

"Never mind." There's finality in her tone that I don't like. She does that whole shaking- head and chewing-on-lip routine she does when she's having an argument with herself in her head. I sit and wait, curious which side she'll come down on, because the losing side is the thing I'll never find out about.

"I'm tired," she finally says.

My heart sinks down somewhere unhealthy. Despite the fact that we just had pretty great sex, I very much doubt she's all that tired. I've seen her tired. Hell, I've seen her exhausted and that ain't it. She looks like she could get up and run 5 miles.

There was always a good 30% chance that this thing with Carter would be over before it ever began. I start to get up, saying, "I'll just get out of your way." Wondering how I'm going to do this exit with any sort of grace, as my shorts are halfway across the floor. Plus, it's damn cold in this room.

"No." She sounds startled and it causes me to pause mid-movement, right before she got a view of my naked ass. "No, that's not what I meant."

I turn toward her. "Oh?"

"Tired, as in…" She changes tactics, saying instead, "Sir, do you ever get tried of the constant…everything. Does it ever get to you?"

I ease myself back down next to her and consider her words as much as the things she's not saying. Like, does she feel this way suddenly? Or for a while now? And how much of this is being brought on by the Pete fiasco or changes at work or… other stuff. She's correct, in a way, because I do wonder what she wants to hear. Does she need to know that it's OK, that she's not crazy, or that I understand?

"Carter…" But I don't get any further because we both hear the sound of tires on gravel. "Maybe I should…"

"Yeah."

"We can talk later," I say.

"Later sounds good." She's quick and I catch only a flash of skin before a sheet-wearing Carter retreats to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a quick shower," she says while closing the door.

I'm suddenly on fast-forward, throwing on clothing, straightening the bed and pillows. I hear car doors slam, all the while my brain is shouting at me in panic. I look around for some distraction or prop. I grab the lamp off the nightstand, yank the cord out of the socket, and escape.

In the hallway, Daniel and Teal'c pause when they see me. Their arms are overloaded with bags and Daniel's also carrying a case of beer.

"Sure you got enough?" I ask, impressed with my ability to sound equal parts mocking and doubtful, with not a trace of 'I just got lucky' anywhere.

"We have plenty," Daniel replies. Teal'c is obviously uninterested in conversation; he's already heading into the kitchen to unload. But Daniel, no, Daniel's got a look on his face I don't like.

"How about beer?" I taunt. "Sure you got enough beer?"

Daniel holds up the case. "Plenty of beer."

"Good."

"Yeah." Then after a beat he asks, "Jack, what's with the lamp?"

"This?"

"Yes, that."

"Oh." I haven't a clue what I was thinking when I grabbed it. Possibly I wasn't thinking at all. Possibly I was still stuck back in that earlier moment thinking about Carter's naked breasts.

He asks, "Is there something up, Jack?"

There was about 20 minutes ago.

"Nope," I choke out. "This lamp? It wasn't working so I told Carter I'd find her a new one. For her room. The one she's staying in."

"And Sam is…?"

"I think she said something about taking a shower."

* * *

><p>All through the afternoon and evening Carter's been the picture of innocence. She used her usual charm on Daniel, and among other things got him to play cards. Her chuckle at a joke that Teal'c absolutely did not make sounded the same as always. Even when she snuck a glance or two at me, there was no indication of what happened earlier. I'm not sure what to make of it, so I leave it be and announce that I'm going to bed early.<p>

Only I'm not tired. I lay in the dark staring up and although I currently can't see it, I can picture the grains in the wood beams above me. I've been in this bed staring at this ceiling during some of the best and worst times in my life, starting with when I was 8 and my grandfather brought me here for the first time. It was the first night that I ever spent away from my parents. I couldn't imagine then, and I suppose even now it's hard to wrap my brain around how far from home I've traveled in my life, only to return here.

I think that's why Carter and this cabin have always been so closely linked in my head all these years. Like this place, I always seem to return to her. Even when I've tried, or she's tried, or we both tried to walk away and never come back, it was only temporary.

There's a soft knock and before I can say a word, the door to my room creeks open. She slips inside and closes the door. It offered me enough of a view to see that the lights are all off in the main room of the cabin, Daniel and Teal'c finally must have turned in as well. Instead of coming any closer, Carter leans her back against the door.

"Hi," she finally says. I'm not going to question how she knows that I'm wide-awake; it's too dark in here for her to see that my eyes are open from that distance.

"Carter," I acknowledge.

She takes a breath. "I know we said we'd talk."

I fully intend to. Really. She deserves that much from me, but I'm sort of afraid of what might come out once both of us start opening our mouths.

I mean, let's be honest here. "It was kind of nice… not talking."

She exhales in a rush. "Really nice." And I smile because she sounds so relieved.

"You want to come over here?" I ask, and I pray that I don't sound overly hopeful.

"God, yes."

She climbs in next to me and I scoot over a little to make sure she's got enough room. As she settles in, I turn on my side so that I can face her. For a couple of moments we both just lay there. I suppose we're wondering if the other person is going to make the first move? This was much easier earlier today.

"So…" I say, oh so brilliantly. She reaches up and brushes my cheek, then begins to run her fingers into my hair.

"Jack," she says, "just kiss me."

I have no idea why, but instead of taking that open invitation, I reply, "So you're the one giving orders now?"

Her fingers in my hair stop moving. Oops.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Carter, wait." I grab her hand before she gets too far, although she wasn't beginning to get out of bed and leave, I feel as if she might at any moment. "Sorry, it's just…"

"This is weird." Leave it to Carter to summarize perfectly.

"Yeah, it is," I agree, "A little."

I feel like we're teetering on the edge of something here. Not sure what exactly, but I do get that this is a critical moment. I always felt that with Carter and me, the best chance of screwing it up (if we ever got the chance to get together in the first place) would be in the first 10 minutes. Or couple of weeks. Give or take.

The beginning was always going to be bumpy. But I also felt that if we could somehow get past that part, we'd be great together. Really great.

Carter always did get a little nervous when we'd take off and hit turbulence right away. I just have to remember my patented calming techniques. And keep her hand away from the ejection button.

"You know what would be nice?" I ask.

"What?" Her tone is carefully neutral.

"If you would sleep here, next to me?" _Please_, I beg her silently, hoping she gets it. _No funny business, Carter, I promise. That's not the only thing that's going on here; it's not what this is about. Just show me a sign that you're in this with me._

"That would be nice." She rolls toward me, puts her arm around my waist and relaxes.

I finally feel like I can breathe.

* * *

><p>The next day is spent fishing, just as God intended when He created lakes with fish in them. Or no fish in them, whatever.<p>

Late in the afternoon when the shadows are long, Daniel and Teal'c go inside for some reason that I didn't pay any attention to, because all I'm focused on is that it's the first time all day that I'm alone with Carter.

"It occurs to me that I should have asked you out." We're folding up the chairs when I say this. It may be late, but maybe I can come up with some kind of plan, for real this time. "Like on a date. Before we…" You know. Did that thing we did.

"First dates are never fun anyway." She's focused on gathering the fishing poles. "They're awkward and mostly boring. Hi, I'm Samantha Carter, and I'm a colonel in the Air Force. My favorite color is blue and my most embarrassing moment was when I fell off the stage during a sixth grade school play."

"Really?" I quirk my head. "Because I thought your most embarrassing moment was that time on P4X-766 when you—"

"Sir," her tone is biting but not truly angry. "You promised never to bring that up again."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

She's quiet for a moment. "That's a good point though." I notice that she's stopped packing up the fishing gear, so I stop as well.

"What? That you can't sing?"

"No," she says, slightly distracted by her own thoughts. "That we're already past the stuff that, you know, people do."

"Boring first dates?" I ask. I'm starting to see her point here. "We're past the place most people are after a lot of dates."

"That's... a good part of the weird factor in this situation."

I ignore "weird" and center on something else. An image is beginning to form in my head. Well, not exactly an image but more of a situation, a place in time. "We're past a few dates and by now I've learned that you find my jokes funny, but you don't like me to know it. I've yet to figure out why. You sometimes paint your toenails pink, own a motorcycle, and for me, the idea of those two things put together…" I clear my throat. "You like ice cream and cake equally. You prefer diet coke, and old movies, you wanted to be an astronaut since you were 7, and….

"Sir." She sounds a little stunned.

"Sometime around 3 months in, I find your toothbrush hidden in my bathroom."

"You do?"

"But I don't say anything."

"You don't?"

"Nope, because if you want to keep secrets, I'll let you."

"But maybe…" She swallows. "I don't want you to think… maybe I'm worried you think that we're moving too quickly and you'll panic."

"It takes a hell of a lot more than that to scare me, Carter. You know that."

"But this is different."

"Is it?"

"You have a plan?" she asks.

"I lied. I have no plan."

And there it is. We're standing there on the dock. Me with no plan. Her with no ideas. When the hell does Carter not have ideas? Yeah. This is huge.

I take a step closer to her. "Look, the way I figure it is that we're a good 6 months or more into a dating relationship, but we've never dated."

"So what do we do?" she asks.

I shrug, "Just go with it."

"That's it?"

What else was she expecting? This is the best I can come up with, plus, I really do believe that all we need is time. Once this settles a little, it'll all be good. I don't know how to tell her that my only plan for the next couple of months is doing everything I can to not have her bolt. Because I'm pretty damn sure she's going to try, at least once.

"Somehow, I know we're going to be fine."

"Well, I'm glad one of us is confident." She's only half-joking. But she'll get there, I have faith.

"C'mere." I pull her into an embrace. We stand there for a while, letting the sun set and our hold on each other relax into something comfortable.

After a time, Carter lifts her head from where it's been resting on my shoulder. "Do you think that they know?"

There's no doubt to whom she's referring, but she gives a nod toward the house anyway. I look up and see the lamp that I took from Carter's room yesterday, now sitting on a table in the middle of the window. Turned on.

"Yep," I say. "They know."

"How?"

"They're smart enough to figure it out," I tell her. "That, and the lamp."

If by some chance they're not 100% sure, and that movement I see behind the curtains is one archeologist and one big alien trying to sneak a peek at what we're doing out here, I'm going to make it clear.

I kiss Carter. And I'm going to keep on kissing her for quite some time.

That's my plan anyway.


End file.
